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DLike weeds on a rockface Gwaiting for the scythe RicoAbchet - ricoAchet The Dworld is on a corner Gwaiting for jobs RicoDchet - ricoGchet Turn the holy Epictures so they face the Awall AAnd who can bear to be forgotten AAnd who can bear to be forgotten
AMarch of flowers, march of dimes AThese are the prisons, these are the crimes AMen wait for news while thousands are still asleep ADreaming of tramlines factories pieces of machinery AMine shafts things like that AMarch of flowers, march of dimes AThese are the prisons, these are the crimes ASound of thunder, sound of gold ASound of the devil breaking parole ERicochet - it's not the end of the world
DSound of thunder, sound of gold GSound of the devil breaking parole RicoEchet - ricoAchet DThese are the prisons, these are the crimes GTeaching life in a violent new way RicoDchet - ricoGchet Turn the holy Epictures so they face the Awall
AAnd who can bear to be forgotten AAnd who can bear to be forgotten
AMarch of flowers, march of dimes AThese are the prisons, these are the crimes AEarly, before the sun, they struggle off to the gates AIn their secret fearful places they see their lives AUnravelling before them AMarch of flowers - march of dimes ASound of thunder, sound of gold AThese are the prisons, these are the crimes ASound of the devil breaking parole ERicochet it's not the end of the world
ABut when they get home, damp eyed and weary They smile and crush their children to their heaving chests Making unfulfillable promises For who can bear to be forgotten